“That’s just the question I want to ask you.”
“There’s only one thing that I can see: Do our work and Corporal Rand’s too.”
“Yes, that’s what I was thinking, why I came to you just now. I wondered if you had considered the situation.”
“To tell you the truth, I hadn’t. I’ve had so many other things to worry me.”
“We can’t be far from Keechewan mission now,” stated the doctor.
“Only a few more days. Those hills you see over there in the distance must be the divide Inspector Cameron spoke of. From there it is not very far to Keechewan, provided, of course, that we don’t get lost again, that our Indians know the way. We’ll soon enter the barren lands.”
For the time being, the subject was dropped. But Dick did not forget that interview. Often, during the next three or four days, he found himself contemplating the future with worried, thoughtful gaze. He took inventory of his munitions and his provisions. Not counting Corporal Rand, there were eight men in the party, really not a very strong force, yet he comforted himself with the thought that Corporal Rand had gone forth alone to cope with the situation.
One evening, after they had crossed the divide and had pitched their tents on a hill, dark with the shadows of approaching night, a driver drew attention to an unusual phenomenon. Far away, faint, yet plainly discernible, was the glimmering of many tiny lights. These lights blinked and beckoned to them—and a cry of elation went up from every member of the party.
“The mission!” boomed Sandy, throwing his parka high in the air. “Keechewan Mission!”
“Not more than eight miles away,” adjudged Dick.